You're My Idiot
by MasterFinland
Summary: What a wacky existence they live. USUK. Nyotalia, Hetalia, Mixed, AU. Requests are always welcome! Rating may go up.
1. You're Not You When You're Hungry

It was a normal, boringly chaotic world meeting.

England and France were at each others throats once again, France having said something offensive to the English culture, as usual. The two men- children, really- were on the floor, bumps and bruises covering them. The marks would be gone within a day or so, so there wasn't really any need to worry about the minor wounds they continued to cause each other.

Yelling curses and pulling hair, the two had been brawling it out for close to five minutes. Most of the nations tended to just tune them out, turning away to retreat into their own conversations.

Germany was beginning to lose her temper. Well, she had begun to lose her temper a good minute after they started, but since then it had increased.

This was outrageous.

The two were such… such _children! _The German rubbed her pounding temples, trying so hard not to yell. She focused her attention on the story her rambunctious Italian friend was telling her.

* * *

Good god France was irritating. He constantly insulted the Brit, and he'd had just about enough of it!

Charging him had seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

England threw a particularly hard punch at the Frenchman's gut, who narrowly dodged it.

"Angleterre, what was with that weak punch? I know you can hit better than that!" Francis taunted the Brit. The punch, in reality, probably would have hurt him quite badly and maybe bruised his stomach, but it was just so fun to piss the little Brit off!

"Shut the bloody fuck up you frog! I could kill you if I wanted to!" Arthur was _furious. _How dare Francis insult his fighting!

There was an annoyingly loud laugh let out by everyone's favorite American as he moved closer to the brawling pair. England grimaced, earning himself a yank to the hair.

"Ow! Damn you, you shite!" He howled, flipping back around to his offender. "Francis, I'm going to bloody kill you!"

"Just you try!" The Frenchmen grinned.

Arthur charged.

* * *

Alfred hefted his struggling boyfriend into his strong arms, lifting him from off the Frenchman beneath him.

"Alfred! Let me go, you prat!" He struggled, kicking and screaming.

So ungentlemanly.

America laughed his loud, aggravating laugh, ignoring the red-faced Brit in his grip.

"Babe, you need to calm down." He grinned, setting Arthur on his feet. He shuffled around in his pocket for a minute, his other arm wrapped around the English nation's waist, who huffed and crossed his arms.

"Bloody idiots, all of you." He grumbled, looking away with a scowl.

"Here, babe." Alfred held his newly found prize to his boyfriend. "Have a Snickers. You're not you when you're hungry."

Silence. Complete and utter silence.

Arthur stared at the candy, his arms going limp, his head slowly rising to meet Alfred's eyes.

"Excuse me?" Everyone held their breath at England's quiet voice.

Alfred smiled goofily down at Arthur, oblivious of what was to come.

* * *

Alfred's eye would probably be purple for at least a week, but the bloody idiot deserved it! Making a fool out of England! The great British Empire! A former pirate!

The poor fool never learned, did he?

He knew better than to do such thing. He _knew_ Arthur didn't like to be embarrassed!

What an… What an _asshole!_

But he was Arthur's asshole, and, he supposed, he could live with that.


	2. Baby Names - (Prequel to The Zoo)

"Eleanor?"

"Not my favorite, but it's not the worst. How about Maybelle?"

"No, that's… Just no. Caroline?"

"That's not completely horrible… Maybe a middle name for that one, then…. Do you like… Oh, I don't know, Annabelle?" A tan, freckled nose wrinkled in disgust.

"Babe, that's awful."

"Fine then! I happen to like that name!" A scowl and a fury of scribbling noises ensued as the name was crossed off the list. "Elizabeth?" A thoughtful stare and a rub to a barely fuzzy chin.

"Yeah, I like that one. Let's hold on to it. Do you like Jane?"

"I do."

"So that's a yes then." Alfred muttered, circling the name on his own paper. "I have Emily? Do you like that one?"

"I do like that one, actually. I think Emily is a beautiful name." Alice smiled, running her hands over her extended belly. She was about five months along and only had a small bump where their baby girl peacefully resided. Alfred grinned, setting his notepad down on the side table, shifting so he was leaning over the bump, his nose squished against it. He cooed softly, placing both of his hands on the protruding flesh, covered by a pink, flowery sundress and a thin white sweater.

"Hi baby~" He grinned, nuzzling his nose onto Alice's baby haven. Alice chuckled, running her fingers through his wheat blond hair. Alfred tilted his head, grinning warmly at his wife. He hummed, a giggle sliding up his throat. Alice rolled her eyes, smiling kindly.

"I love you, Ally~"

"I love you too, Alfie."

Staring into each others eyes, Alfred rose to meet her face to face. He kissed her gently, deeply, Alice kissing back with just as much emotion. Her hands tangled into his hair, massaging gently, Alfred's own stroking his wife's pale face. Breaking the kiss slowly, Alfred stared into Alice's glossy green eyes, filled with unshed tears.

"Whatcha cryin' for, baby?" He smiled, his voice soft. He played with her long, blonde, pigtailed hair in attempt at comfort.

"I just- I just love you _so _much!" She sobbed, pulling him towards her in a crushing hug. He squeaked as he was pressing into her full breast, his face squished and adorably red.

"B-Babe yer hurtin' me…" The words came out muffled, Alice almost unable to hear him due to her wails. She let go, wrapping her arms around his stomach instead of suffocating him, her tears near soaking his cotton Superman t-shirt. Alfred chuckled, petting her hair. "It's okay baby~ Stop cryin', sugar." His comfort only served to make her cry harder. She mumbled a string of 'I love you' s, Alfred still playing with the ends of her hair.

"I love you too, sweetheart." She hiccuped, her sobs finally subsiding. She squeezed tightly around his waist, nuzzling her face into his toned abdomen.

"Sit with me," she mumbled softly, tired from her upset. Alfred complied, sliding into the spot next to her on the couch. He looped one arm around her shoulders, resting his cheek on her head. Her head rested on his shoulder, her hands looped with his free one. Alfred hummed a tune gently, moving his thumb rhythmically against her arm. He would put her to sleep if he continued.

"Alfred," she yawned. "We still haven't picked a name." Her eyelids drooped, and she snuggles deeper into him.

"We can decide later. Just go to sleep." She nodded, her eyes finally slipping shut, her posture slackening. Her breathing evened out within the minute, Alfred still humming his song and rubbing her arm.


	3. The Star Spangled Banner

"Yes ma'am. I can come in today." Arthur sighed, looking at his watch. He had a lot of work to do, but his queen needed him, so that work would have to wait until later. "Yes I can be there within the hour. Yes ma'am. Yes. Okay, I shall see you then, my Lady." Hanging up the phone with a disgruntled grimace, he put it back into his pocket.

'_Dammit. I already had so much to do today…'_

He ran a hand through his unkempt, frustration tousled hair. He had _far _too much work to complete to be greeting his queen, but he had obligations to see both her and the prime minister when either requested him, so he really didn't have a choice but to go. Groaning as his joints popped, the Brit stood from his office chair. He stretched, having been hunched over for many hours, this being the first time he'd stood since the night before.

He was so tired.

He needed to shower and eat before he left, so it would most likely take him at least an hour, even if he hurried. He had to be dressed accordingly, clean, prim and proper. He _had _to.

Groaning, England rubbed the back of his aching neck, a yawn leaving him. He began his slow move to his room, which was, thankfully, just down the hall. He needed a nap, but there was no time. No time, no time.

Quickly undressing for his shower, Arthur couldn't help but think he'd forgotten something as she started it and stepped in, already beginning to work on his shaggy, in dire need of a trim, hair.

'_Oh well. It must not be that important.'_

* * *

Arthur, having downed at least three cups of coffee- tea would _not _have helped today, it simply wasn't strong enough- was decked in his nicest suit. He made his way slowly to the parlor room of the castle, one of the guards leading him up through the stairs and corridors. Arthur walked with his head up, his hands looped together in front of him. He walked with pride, his back and shoulders straight and square. The guard continuously looked back at him, as if he was suspicious of Arthur. Now that Arthur thought about it, he'd never seen this young man before.

'_He must be new.'_

"Are you new, lad?" The man seemed surprised that he had been spoken to.

"Ah… Yes sir. I started that week. My name is William." Arthur nodded, flashing the man a smile.

"That's a nice name. My name is Arthur Kirkland. I work with the queen and prime minister quite closely. I suppose you could say I run the government, in a sort of way." He chuckled softly, his face flushed a light pink.

William chuckled, opening the door on their left, standing in front of it to hold it open. "Here you are, Mr. Kirkland. The queen is right through here." Arthur smiled, thanking the man with a bow.

He made his way into the room slowly, his queen and prime minister both placed in their respective seats.

He stood before the grand couches, standing straight and proud. He would wait like that until told to do otherwise, which was never a long time. His queen smiled at him, motioning him over.

"My Lady." He bowed, following command. She smiled at him warmly, her eyes tired, but happy all the same.

"Arthur. Hello, darling. How have you been?" He smiled politely.

"I have been well, My Lady. And yourself? How have you been doing?"

"I've been very well, Arthur, thank you for asking. You don't have to be so formal, love." He chuckled, wringing his hands nervously.

"Ah, yes…. If I may ask, what am I here for?" The queen chuckled, waving him over and patting the seat next to her. The prime minister smiled at the Brit, who steadily made his way over.

"Just to talk, darling, no need to worry. A simple check-up on you. Mister Cameron would like to discuss a few things with you as well."

Arthur sat on the red couch opposite to the two, a soft, nervous smile on his face. "Alright."

"Now, Arthur. How have things been? Have you been sick lately, or anything I should know about?"

"I did have a cold, last week… I tried a new Chinese tea then as well, courtesy of Yao… Nothing else, I believe, my lady."

The aging queen nodded her head. "Are you seeing anyone?"

Arthur's face inflamed.

"W-Well… I-I…" He stuttered, twiddling his thumbs nervously. "Y-Yes…"

"Oh~!" The Queen grinned, clapping her hands. "What's her name?"

"A-Ah… Well… About that, ma'am… I, uhm…" He blushed, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "It's not-"

Just then his phone began to ring. It was some cheesy, badly done ringtone version of the Star Spangled Banner. The prime minister and the queen both stared at him in horror. Arthur winced, reaching into his pocket and grabbing the phone. He answered it nervously.

"H-Hello?"

"_Hey Artie! Did'ya forget about me or somethin'? Or did I get the date wrong?" _

Arthur groaned.

Shit.

So that's what he'd forgotten this morning.

"N-No…. The date isn't... Wrong..." He brushed a hand through his hair.

_"So you forgot?"_

"Look, Alfred, the queen called. I had to join her in a conference. I've gotten minimal sleep over the past few days. It slipped my mind. I'll make it up to you. Dinner, instead of lunch together. Anywhere you want. I'll pay."

There was hesitance on the other line before Alfred spoke.

_"Fine. You've forgiven me for worse. I'm thinking a nice steak house? So dress accordingly... Oh! And I want a blowjob before bed!" _Arthur could hear his smug expression through the phone.

"Fine. That's…" He flushed. "That's fine. Just, I have to go."

_"'Kay. Love you, babe."_

"I love you too, darling." He mumbled quietly, ending the call. He slowly put it back in his pocket, trying not to meet his leaders' eyes.

"Arthur…"

"Y-Yes ma'am?"

"Who was that?"

"U-Uhm… A-Alfred... M-My b-boyfriend…"

"The American?" Cameron questioned, barely phased. The queen smiled at him.

"Oh, that's wonderful, darling! Why didn't you tell me?"

He blinked in confusion, cocking his head.

"I-I… I just thought…"

"Darling, we could _never _be mad at you for something like this! We've known that you've liked him for a long time!"

"R-Really?" He flushed brightly.

Mister Cameron smiled. "You didn't hide it all that well, lad." Arthur chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair.

"W-Well… That's a relief, I suppose."

"Go on. Get to your date. Have fun." He got up with a nod, slowly walking to the door.

"Oh, and Arthur?" He turned back. "Use protection."

His face lit up, and he gave a soft nod, before exiting.


	4. Beach Babes

Alice groaned, digging through her bathing suits. Amelia had begged her to come swimming, a, because it was rather warm, and, b, her South Carolina home was just a few minutes walk from the beach.

Jesus Christ!

None of these fucking suits looked good on her!

She cried out in frustration, throwing her hands up. She sat down on the bed, crossing her arms and pouting.

This was fucking ridiculous.

It wasn't her fault she was malnourished and starved as a child- it wasn't her fault Amelia's body was much larger than her own, in every way. Especially her breasts and thighs.

She huffed.

She supposed she could wear the white one piece, the one covered in large red roses. That one was her favorite… But, she supposed Amelia would probably laugh at it… Sliding back onto the floor, she sighed and tucked the suit back into her bag. It wasn't like she could borrow one of Amelia's - her chest and hips were both far larger than Alice's own small and bony set. America would probably be wearing an American flag two piece… Which was to be expected. She did have pride in her country. And her body.

England had always looked good in green and red, at least from her own perspective. She also rather liked blue and pink.

Alice heaved a sigh.

This was going to take a while.

* * *

Alice finally decided on a fifties style two piece - one with a hot pink bottom and a white bikini top. She frowned, looking at herself in the full length mirror. She did a slight twirl, eyeing herself from every angle. She didn't look half bad. In fact, she thought she looked quite pretty. She smiled softly, her cheeks dusted pink. She hoped Amelia liked it, despite herself.

She sighed, slipping her wedges on, grabbing her sunhat and bag before quickly heading out.

She was going to be late!

* * *

Alice quite enjoyed the beach, even if the sand and heat did get a bit tiresome after a while, but she knew she could always take a dip in the ocean to cool off. She never really got the option to go to the beach - the ones in England were far too cold.

She walked slowly towards the beach, feeling no need to run to get there. Amelia would most likely not be there yet, anyway. She had a tendency to be late, even if she was the one who initially made the plans. It still annoyed Alice, but at this point, she just came to expect it.

She gave a soft sigh, hefting the bag over her shoulder, rather than leaving it at her elbow, which was beginning to ache.

Ugh. Amelia pissed her off.

Amelia showed up about half an hour late, just as Alice was about to give up and leave. Alice had to contain a smile. She was right - America _was_ wearing a Fourth of July worthy bikini, with stars and stripes - the stripes on the bottom, the stars on the top. The young girl posed.

"Hey." She winked at the Brit, who flushed brightly.

"You're late."

Amelia giggled and grinned hugely. "Do I even get a 'hello' anymore?"

Alice rolled her eyes. "Hello, Amelia. It's nice to see you."

Amelia's smile grew. "Now that's better!" Alice smirked, despite herself. Amelia gave Alice a once-over, causing her to blush bright red.

"W-What the bloody fuck are you looking at?"

"You, babe. What else? I like your suit. It's cute." She sat on the towel next Alice.

Alice's ears warmed with embarrassment. "You're a goddamn flirt, you know?" She huffed, crossing her arms and turning away. Amelia wrapped her arms around the tiny woman.

"Awe c'mon, sugar! Don't be like that!" Amelia rested her head on Alice's shoulder, causing the Brit's blush to intensify.

"G-Get off, you bloody tosser..." Alice said, clearing her throat. Amelia chuckled, merely snuggling closer.

"You're cute when you're mad, you know?" Alice's stomach bubbled. Damn her! Damn the bloody tease!

"Sh-Shut up!"

In an instant, Amelia was suddenly standing, her hands on her hips. "Well, what are we waiting for? Lets get in there!" Alice stared up at her in irritation before sighing.

"Alright, fine. But so help me God, if you dunk me under water, I'm going to beat the shit out of you." She muttered, slowly rising. She removed her sunglasses and hat, glad she put sunscreen on while waiting for the American to show.

Amelia stood in the shallow waves, giggling at the feeling of her feet sinking into the wet sand. She wriggled and curled her toes into the soft, thick sand, grinning hugely. "C'mon, Ally! Get in! The water's wonderful!" She spun around, laughing loudly.

Alice suppressed a giggle at the blonde's antics, making her way over to her. "I'm coming, I'm coming." Amelia winked.

"You will be, baby, don't worry." Alice's face lit up again.

"Y-You be quiet!" She squealed, puffing her red cheeks out. "This is a family establishment!" Amelia grinned and laughed again.

"I'll be quiet when you stop being so slow. C'mon! You're so _slow,_ old lady!" She groaned out, slumping over.

"Well then. Maybe I just won't join you, if I'm so _old_," she growled, stopping in her tracks and crossing her arms.

"No baby, I'm sorry! I was just playin'! You're not old! Please come swim with me! I'm sorry! I love ya!" Amelia hastily tried to reassure her.

Alice walked into the water and bent down, earning a strange look from her girlfriend. Alice placed her hands into the water and quickly brought them up, splashing a good amount of water onto the American in front of her, who screamed.

Alice smirked arrogantly at the soaked woman. "That's what you get for calling me old, you right plonker."

Amelia smirked dangerously, and Alice momentarily regretted her previous action. "Oh, it is _so_ on." The American bent into the water.

Alice frowned. "Amelia, don't you da-" She screamed, bringing her hands up to shield herself, laughing. "You arse!" She laughed, returning the action almost immediately.

Their splashing continued for at least another hour and a half before the two couldn't take it anymore.

* * *

"That was fun…"

The girls lay panting on their towels, soaked and exhausted from their adventure.

Amelia turned and grinned at her lover. "The beach is _always_ fun, Al."

Alice smiled softly, her ears turning a faint pink.

"Yes, well… The only downside is the sunburn…"

"I don't burn, baby. I get a tan." Alice snorted.

"Of course. So am I just imagining the time you practically _begged_ me to rub aloe vera gel on your poor back?" Amelia flushed and puffed her cheeks out.

"... Yes…"

Alice laughed loudly, a smile growing on her face.

"Alright, dear, alright."

Amelia smirked slightly. "Well, at least I _can_ tan, pasty butt."

"Ugh! I am not pasty!" She shrieked, face flushed, shooting up into a sitting position. "I'm porcelain!"

Amelia giggled. "_Suure_, okay. Whatever you say, honeybuns."

Alice huffed. "You prat."

"Meh, you know you love me."

Alice crossed her arms, pointedly looking in the other direction. "I… I suppose…" She huffed again, face brightening further.

Amelia sat up, wrapping her arms around Alice's shoulders. She nuzzled her face against her neck, giving it a quick peck with her lips. Alice squeaked and arched her back, blush spreading to her neck.

"_Amelia!" _

Amelia laughed, smacking a big kiss on her cheek. "Yeah, baby?"

"You're a right bloody arse, you know?"

"You love it." Amelia grinned sunnily at her, resting her chin on Alice's much paler shoulder.

"Oh go fuck yourself." The Brit snorted, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Why would I do that, when you're right here?"

"Amelia Francine Jones!" She huffed, red once again. "We are at a public family beach!"

Amelia ignored her, resting her head on Alice's shoulder. "Love you, sweet thang."

"Do not drawl at me." She pouted, looking away from her.

"Drawl." She said, her southern accent thickening. "Drawl, drawl."

Alice snorted. "Arsehole."

"I try."

"Yes, I know." She rolled her eyes. "Now stop."

"Naw. I love makin' you squirm, sugarpop." She gave the smaller woman's waist a squeeze.

"Good lord…" The Brit sighed, leaning back into Amelia's arms. "I'm ready to go home. I have sand up my twat." The American laughed loudly.

"Shit, Al. You're so vulgar." She stood, holding her hand out to the smirking woman.

"Speak for yourself." She snorted and stood on her own, ignoring the offered hand. She dusted herself off, reaching down and grabbing her towel, shaking it before rolling it up and stuffing it in her bag, Amelia doing the same with her things.

"Ready to go then, baby?"

"Yes, yes, I suppose." She rolled her eyes, giving her a soft smirk. Amelia grinned.

"Then let's go." She took the Brit's hand, the two leisurely making their way home in perfect happiness.


	5. Hormones Suck, Amelia Jones

"Artie?"

Arthur didn't look up from his book, instead choosing to snuggle further into his blanket. It was cold inside- Amelia insisted on keeping it cold, as her hormones made her overheat more often than not. He, of course, wasn't going to argue. He'd tried before, and quickly decided he wasn't suicidal. He could use a damn blanket if he was cold. "Yes, luv? What is it?"

"He's kicking…" Amelia's voice was barely above a whisper. She played with her sleeves, which were overly long.

Arthur looked up then, a soft expression on his face. "Is he now?" He dog-eared his page, sitting up straight. He sat the book and his reading glasses on the table next to him.

"Mmhm." Amelia waddled over slowly, her messy curls swishing. She eased herself into his lap, curling up the best she could. She buried her nose into his neck. Arthur wrapped his arms around her waist to hold her there before moving one hand to place against hers.

"Where?" He murmured lowly into her hair.

"Here." She responded in the same soft tone, taking his hand in her own barely smaller one and moving it to the left side of her lower stomach. Little thumps met Arthur's palm, making him grin.

"There he is... Hello, laddie." He shifted, dipping himself to speak to his wife's tummy bump through her sweater. His sweater, actually. She giggled, moving one of her hands to his hair.

"He doesn't understand what you're saying, Arthur..."

"The fetus has developed enough to realize that I'm speaking to it." He rolled his eyes. "He'll recognize my voice when he's born." Amelia giggled.

"Really? How do you know that?"

"It's in the pregnancy book you made me read." He gave her a look, one of slight irritation. "Did you not read it?"

The American blushed, turning her head, golden curls bobbing. "N-No…"

Arthur rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "And you were so intent on me reading it and knowing what to do…"

The young woman pouted. "You're a meanie."

Arthur chuckled softly. "That is most certainly not what you were saying this morning when you begged me to-" She cut him off with a fierce glare.

"Fuck off, Arthur." She crossed her arms over her extended tummy, turning away from him. Arthur smiled guiltily.

"Poppet, I was only joking."

"Go fuck yourself." She spat venomously. Arthur sighed, placing his chin on her shoulder.

"Amelia, luv… You know I didn't mean anything by it…"

"I-I hate you!" Amelia bit back tears, but made no move to get up. If Arthur were a dog his tail would have been tucked between his legs. But he didn't, so his guilty facial expression was enough.

"Amelia… Amelia, sweetheart, I was joking… Don't be like that…" The girl hiccupped softly, burying her nose into her husband's neck. She choked on her sobs, gripping tightly to the front of his dress shirt.

Arthur sighed, gently massaging her lower back. He kissed her temple, nuzzling his nose against the spot afterwards. "I love you, Amelia."

Amelia, who was beginning to calm down, mumbled a soft 'I love you too' towards her husband, inhaling deeply.

"Shall I get you a tissue?" He whispered against her hair, soft and silky from its wash the night before. She nodded, sniffing harshly so she could breathe. Arthur patted her tummy gently, slowly shifting himself out from under her. Amelia pulled the big red blanket around herself, sniffling and watching him.

Arthur came over again, the tissue box in his hands. He scooted in beside his wife, the loveseat just barely big enough, and passed her the box.

"Th-Thanks…" She whispered, taking one of the soft papers and blowing into it. She then look another, bringing it to her big blue eyes and dabbing gently. Arthur smiled softly, placing a light kiss on the side of her forehead.

"Are you feeling a bit better?" He spoke softly, moving a hand to her stomach.

"A little." She whispered hoarsely.

"Good." Arthur gave her a gentle smile, still speaking quietly.

"Artie… Can I have some of your tea?" She murmured softly, laying her head against his shoulder.

"Of course, my love." Arthur reached over to the side table, gingerly lifting his pristine, beautifully painted, oriental teacup he'd gotten as a set from his trip to China a few years before. He carefully handed his sniveling wife the fragile glass, making sure she had a good hold on it before letting go and relaxing back against the chair.

"I'm going to turn a movie on." Amelia spoke after a few seconds. "I'll keep the volume low."

At Arthur's nod of acknowledgement, the young American picked up the remote and turned the tv on, first turning the volume down nearly as low as it could go, though not so low as she could still hear it. She flipped through channels until she found something she liked, and curled up against her dozing husband, one hand curled around her tummy, the other holding the teacup.

She fell asleep to the sound of her husband's soft breathing.


End file.
